“A Christmas Cup of Coffee” Luke 2:1-7 Two friends were talking one morning over a breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes and one of those bottomless pots of coffee. After catching up about the kids and the wives, various mechanical difficulties with their cars, and doing an inventory regarding job satisfaction, the topic swung around to the Christmas story. I grew up in a home where we all went to church every Sunday, said the tall and lean one named Ed. So Ive heard the Christmas story for as long as Ive been breathing. But theres one thing about that story thats always bothered me. His friend, Tom, who wasnt quite as lean but stood six inches taller, nodded. Tom had grown up, so to speak, in the church as well. He was a skeptic by nature, though, and a little on the cynical side. In his own life, he had noticed the embers of enthusiasm about his once red-hot Christianity beginning to cool off. Christmas used to mean something to him. But the last few years he found the story of Christs birth wearing on him to the point where the story seemed to be worn out. God coming to earth as a baby didnt grab his attention like it used to. Sometimes it even seemed like a bunch of marlarkey. Hearing his friend open the door to discussion with his one thing thats always bothered me comment, Tom verbally lurched ahead and put his own thoughts on the table. You, too? Im not sure if I buy it anymore. Im not questioning the truth of the story, Ed responded. I believe it. When youre dealing with God, I figure where theres weirdness and logical unbelieveability, Gods right in the middle of it. The Christmas story has to be true. If God wanted to put his hands around the neck of humanity and choke out its life, theres nothing to stop God from doing just that. If God didn’t want to give humans a chance - why would God send Christ as a way out for us humans? The deck is already stacked in Gods favor. Theres nothing you or I could ever do to escape the judgment of God. One snap of those divine fingers and - Hasta la vista, baby - were history. The baby in the manger - the birth of a Savior - thats a gift. God didnt have to do that. Thats why Im convinced the Christmas Story is true. What bothers me is why no one ever mentions the smell. So much for venting my misgivings, thought Tom. The smell? he replied instead. Youre saying this story smells? You think theres something fishy going on? But you just said you believe God came as a baby. Ed calmly slurped a sip of coffee and then set down the cup. The smell Im talking about is the one in the stable. Dont you ever think about the smell in the stable where Jesus was born? How come nobody ever mentions the smell? Tom looked at Ed with disbelief; he couldnt swallow that this is what bothered his friend. While restraining himself, Tom still managed to spew forth, God supposedly comes as a baby and yet youre bothered about the smell in the stable? It was time for his sarcastic side to take over and so he flippantly said, The smell? Why, thats the smell of salvation. Eds face went lifeless. He picked up his coffee cup but before he could gulp another mouthful, he carefully set the cup back down on the table. Youre right. There was astonishment in his voice. Then his face brightened. That makes perfect sense. Now it was Toms face that went blank. It does? he wheezed in quiet disbelief. Absolutely, said Ed as his eyes met his friends. Jesus was a holy child - pure and innocent - but he wasnt born into a holy world. He was born in a place where you needed to watch where you stepped. The world he came into wasnt sanitized; it wasnt sterile. There wasnt wrapping around the world which said Sanitized for your protection. The world was a mess; it was smelly and dirty - just like the stable. The world - you and I - needed to be cleaned up. Thats why God sent a Savior. Ed reached for his coffee cup, put it to his lips and drained the last of it. He then grasped the pot for a re-fill. As he was pouring, Ed stared at the steaming black liquid, watching as it ebbed up the inside of his mug. He tossed in a little cream, grabbed a spoon and began to stir with a slow, mesmerizing motion, lost in his thoughts. Finally, as Ed pulled his gaze from the cup and focused on his friend, the silence was broken. Salvation is dirty work. Why shouldnt it smell?
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 12:11:16 +0000
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